


The Holby Pub

by Fanofthearts



Category: Holby City
Genre: AU, Bernie in uniform, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 11:46:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19084387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanofthearts/pseuds/Fanofthearts
Summary: The din of the pub muted slightly when their eyes met, “Welcome home, soldier.” Serena heard herself say as she winked, dark eyes tracking her figure.





	The Holby Pub

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Iordio for betaing this thingy :)
> 
> Come dork out about these too with me on Tumblr! Lesbianishstuff

“Hey, Rena!”

Dark eyes snapped up from the gin and tonic she was mixing for the young soldier in front of her. Looking to the corner her gaze landed on an older man standing towards the back of the bar by the darts. It had been ten years since smoking was banned in public places but she still was unused to seeing across the dimly lit space so clearly. 

“Yes, Lionel?” He was one of her regulars, recently retired and unsure just yet what to do with himself.

“Can I get two pints of Old Ember, love?”

She resisted rolling her eyes, he was harmless but most days was on the needy side. She passed the gin and tonic to the young man in front of her and winked before quickly filling the pint glasses with beer before grabbing the empties crate. She ignored the slight pinch in her neck as she lifted the heavy carrier working her way through the tables across the room. Faded photographs of soldiers decorated the dark paneled walls, her eyes traced them without seeing. Setting the tray down she sighed, she wasn’t as young as she used to be. 

This bar had been her father’s pride and joy, his father’s before him. It was close to the Army base in Holby and had a staunch following. She had been an F1 when her father suddenly passed and her mother developed dementia. Circumstances forced her out of a medical career and into the pub business. It wasn’t bad per se; the income was good, and being able to rent out the two flats above the pub made for a comfortable life. Some days she did yearn for more. She shook her head as she passed pints out to the local darts   
team who were having a break from the darts. No point in mourning over something long since passed, she thought. “Rena, Rena! May I introduce Captain Bernie Wolfe? She is here on leave from Iraq.” He slapped the blonde on the back, her beer slopped dangerously in her glass. 

The din of the pub muted slightly when their eyes met, “Welcome home, soldier.” She heard herself say as she winked, dark eyes tracking her figure. She wore a tight khaki t-shirt tucked into fatigues, thick khaki webbing belt held them in place over her slender hips. The fatigues ended tucked into army issued sand colored boots. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun, a few strands worked their way loose and framed her face just so... She should seem out of place, sitting with these old men; soldiers of a different era but she looked at home with them. There was an ease about her, something Serena couldn’t quite put her finger on yet. 

“Got in just last night, didn’t she. She’ll be finding sand everywhere for the next two weeks.” The other men at the table laughed at the joke, something both Serena and Bernie appeared to miss. 

Serena smiled at the men and glanced back to the bar noticing the small line forming. She was alone tonight, Fletch calling in to stay at home with a sick toddler. “Anything else you need from me, boys?” She glared quickly at the older man next to her before he could say anything crude in reply. “Right, if you need me you know where to find me.” 

“Nice to meet you Captain Wolfe.” She squeezed Bernie’s shoulder briefly before going back behind the bar. 

It was Saturday night and fairly busy, it all passed in a blur, running the till, the bar, and the small fryer in the back alone on such a hectic night was hard work. At last orders she looked up and caught Bernie’s eyes, she was staring at her from across the room. Serena felt a shiver of something travel down her spine at the dark eyes. Self-conscious, she reached up fiddling with the pendent around her neck absently wishing she had worn a nicer shirt than the slightly faded red one and since sweated through. 

She had to admit the soldier cut an impressive figure, all tan, lean, and striking features. She felt herself blush before looking back down at the glasses she was scalding in the dishwasher behind the bar. She released the door and pulled the stack out holding her breath against the gush of steam hitting her in the face before setting them on the drying rack. Her eyes went back to the corner of the bar to find the blonde gone. Her eyes darted around the room with no luck. Sighing she went back to the task at hand.

 

\--

 

After a much deserved Sunday off, Monday evening found Serena behind the bar again. It was much slower than Saturday. She found she served more food Monday than she did drinks. It was going on nine o’clock when the kitchen closed for the night. She wished Fletch a good evening before she turned to the few men sitting at the bar nursing drinks and watching football on the large screen. Glancing up at the scores she winced when she saw how behind Holby City was. 

Her attention turned towards the door as the bell above it jingled. She found herself smiling as she watched Captain Wolfe walk through. Unlike Saturday, tonight she was alone and impeccably dressed in her military dress uniform, dark blue pressed jacket and a crisp beret upon her head. It was her face though that gave her pause, it wasn’t often anyone came into the pub wearing formal dress. Her mouth was drawn in a thin line, deep dark circles were under eyes that briefly met Serena’s before turning back to the worn bar. 

“Good evening Captain.” She greeted her cheerfully as she slid into a stool at the far end of the bar away from the other patrons. 

She received a tight lipped smile in return, “Hello, Rena wasn’t it?”

Serena again felt the shiver from the night before. “Serena actually, Serena McKinnie.” She surprised herself, she was only Serena to her friends outside of the walls of the establishment. 

Tired eyes smiled up at her, “Bernie Wolfe.” She held out her hand. 

Serena wiped her hand on the front of her black apron before sliding her calloused hand into Bernie’s. “Pleasure. What’s Bernie short for?”

“Berenice.” She gave her a half smile, “You can see why I go by Bernie, can’t you?”

“I don’t know, Berenice has a beautiful ring to it.”

“It does when you say it.” A red hot blush flushed across her face as the words left her mouth, almost as if she couldn’t believe she herself was the one who uttered them. “So-Sorry, that was… umm, sorry.”

Serena let out a laugh, surprised to feel the heat rise to her own cheeks, “Don’t apologise for the compliment.” She winked. “What can I get you?”

“Have you any Macallan?”

The brunette nodded and turned around to grab a bottle off the back of the bar. Her eyes flicked into the mirror behind it and studied the woman behind her. She watched as she pulled off her cap and ran her hands over her face. She looked exhausted. Turning around she placed the drink in front of her and wondered about her story. She couldn’t help being drawn to the woman, “Rough day?”

She watched the muscles in her neck move as she took a healthy swallow of her drink before placing it down gently in front of her. Long fingers played with the glass on the varnished wood. “You could say that.” She whispered into her drink. 

Serena reached under the bar and pulled out a tonic water, if there was one thing she could do was get someone to talk. Cracking the seal she took a long pull from her drink before setting it on the bar next to Bernie’s. She waited, remarkably she didn’t have to wait long. 

The blonde glanced down at the others at the end of the bar still engrossed in their game. “I-I buried my father today.” 

Serena’s eyes snapped up, of all things she wasn’t expecting that. “Oh, Berenice, I’m sorry I…” Her hand covered Bernie’s that was clenched into a fist on the bar. 

She heard her sniff using her free hand to take another sip of her drink. “It’s… it's not like we were close anymore.” She laughed humourlessly, “Not like we ever were really. But it still…”

“It still hurts, losing someone that has known you since the beginning. Who you have known forever.” Her voice was soft as her thumb gently ran over her knuckles. “Had he been   
ill?”

She shrugged, “Heart issues on and off, congestive heart failure, Afib, COPD… he smoked like a chimney when I was a kid. Finally caught up with him.” Her eyes were still down, shielding herself from Serena’s warm gaze. “I didn’t know how bad it was. I’ve been deployed for the past six months.” 

“Where?”

“Baghdad, right now I’m teaching Iraqi soldiers and medics, but I have a feeling I’ll be over with the American’s on the front line to deal with all the ISIS collateral damage.” Her thumbnail of her free hand scraped gently against the clear glass. 

Serena felt her heart leap at the thought and steered the conversation elsewhere. “Are you an only child?”

Bernie nodded and finally met Serena’s eyes. “I am, it was just me and dad for a long time. My Mum died when I was ten, breast cancer. He was in the army when he was young   
and after Mum…I just wanted a place to belong. I didn’t feel like here was where I belonged-I this…marrying, settling, anyway. I always wanted to be a surgeon but we didn’t have a lot of money and the Army offered to pay for it if I kept my grades up.” She drained the rest of her glass. “And here I am.”

Serena squinted, it felt like there was a lot more to the story than that and was determined to find out. She turned around to grab the bottle to refill Bernie’s glass, only then realising that her hand was still on the other woman’s. “Not the marrying kind?” She asked casually as she could. 

She watched a slow smile pull across her face. “Well, now, maybe since the change in the law a few years ago, and if I found the right woman…” Dark eyes met hazel and Serena felt a coil start deep in her belly. 

“Here here.” She raised her bottle to clink against. 

Bernie’s eyes widened slightly, “What about you Serena McKinnie.” She leaned forward on her elbows. “Are you the marrying kind?”

Serena watched a slow smile spread across her face that lit up her tired eyes. She had a feeling this was a woman who didn’t let her guard down easily or frequently. “Mmm perhaps, for the right woman. She just hasn’t come into the picture yet.”

“Is that so?” She turned her hand over and grinned when Serena casually slipped her hand into it. 

She nodded, “It is.” The air crackled around them suddenly warm and thick in the small bar. Serena smiled as the warm feeling of attraction settled over her, her hand tingled where it was touching Bernie’s hand. It had been a long time since she felt this way, let alone so quickly. Dark eyes gazed into each other before the moment was broken from one of the football watchers asking for refills. Serena squeezed her hand, “Give me one second.”

After getting pints for the three men Serena returned to Bernie smiling apologetically. “Sorry about that.” 

Bernie smiled a slow easy smile that lit up her entire face, “Don’t apologise for doing your job.” They sat gazing at each other for a bit before Bernie cleared her throat. “So, um how did you get into this?” She waved her hand gesturing to the bar. 

“It was my father’s actually. He passed away about twenty years ago now and I took it over.”

“Did you always want to be in the family business?” Bernie’s eyes held the sympathy of understanding. 

“Ha! No.” Serena laughed ruefully, “I was in med school, wanted to become a surgeon.” She gestured at Bernie, “Just like you, but then life happened. My first year in rotation dad died, he had a massive heart attack. About a month later Mum was diagnosed with vascular dementia, they had hidden her illness from me. After he was gone it was just me. I had to…um well, it was just easier for her that I be home with her during the day. I could tend bar at night, hire someone to stay with her while she slept. I made enough here to stay afloat, and dad had a good life insurance plan so I could pay off the business loans and rent the two flats above.” She motioned to the ceiling.

“How old were you?”

Serena blew out a breath her fingers ruffled her fringe, she had been meaning to get a haircut for some time. “Oh probably about twenty three? Mum died four years later on my   
twenty seventh birthday.” She watched as Bernie’s eyes glittered in the dim of the bar they filled with understanding.

She gave her a small smile and pushed aside her empty glass reaching for Serena’s hand with both of hers. “I’m very sorry Serena.”

She shrugged and took a swig of her water, “It’s okay, was a long time ago.”

Bernie shrugged squeezing her hand. “It doesn’t make it any less with time. I know.”

Serena grasped her hand, not allowing her to pull it back. She took a deep breathing trying to dispel the heaviness that hung in the air, “Tell me about your career with army?”

“I don’t want to bore you, or keep you from work.”

Serena’s smile widened, “You won’t, on both accounts.” 

“Alright then, I’m a trauma surgeon. At the moment, like I said, training in Baghdad…”

Five hours passed like minutes, Serena breaking away to serve an occasional patron but after eleven the bar was theirs and they moved to a table. Serena turned her sharp wit on Bernie and had her gasping for air and holding her sides more times that the blonde could count. For her part Serena couldn’t get enough of Bernie’s stories, of her voice, of her gentle sense of humour, and her worldliness. It was a long time since she was able to talk to someone about (and agree with) current politics, opera, travel and literature. Only when Bernie’s eyes began to droop did Serena insist on calling her a cab. 

“I’m really fine to walk, Dad’s house isn’t far from here.” She insisted as she reluctantly stood watching Serena putter around closing up. 

“Nonsense, I won’t see you walking around in that dress uniform at two in the morning.” She shut off the lights and ushered Bernie towards the door. 

“And what about you Ms McKinnie, where do you call home?” Bernie’s hovered close enough that Serena could feel her body heat as she locked the door. Their hands hadn’t   
strayed far from each other all night.

They shivered against the chilly air as they stepped outside gravitating close together. She pointed across the street to a small detached with what looked to be, in the dark of the streetlights, a well-manicured lawn. “Just across the road.”

Bernie smiled sleepily, “It must be nice to have a home like that. I guess I do have one of my own now, dad left it to me.” She sighed thinking about going back to the cold empty house. 

“When do you go back?”

“Go back?” Her sleep laden brain tried to keep up.

“To Iraq?”

“Oh! Tomorrow, my plane leaves at thirteen hundred hours.”

“Tomorrow?” Serena tried to keep the shock and disappointment out of her voice. She failed. 

“Short visit, just for the funeral, four days. That’s all I got. I’m right in the middle of a year long tour.” 

“Oh.” For some reason she thought they would have longer. “Bernie I…” She looked up at her, blonde hair spilled down over to her shoulders, a few hours ago she declared the bun was too tight and to Serena’s delight took out the pins that held it up. Just as she was about to say more the cab pulled up. 

“This is me.”

“Yes, are you sure you’ll be okay getting home?”

Bernie mocked saluted her, “Yes, ma’am.” She reached out and gently squeezed the brunette’s hands in hers; Serena suppressed a shiver, trying to blame it on the cold. “Thank you for the best trip home I’ve had in ages, even despite the circumstances.” 

The lamp light made Bernie’s hair even lighter, her eyes seemed almost black, the light reflecting off of her medals pinned to her chest making her look like a vison. Serena’s eyes widened as she saw Bernie lean down, her lips gently brushed her cheek almost touching the corner of her mouth. Serena’s arms went around the blonde’s waist pulling her close for a moment, breathing her in, she pressed her cheek into the stiffly starched collar of her uniform inhaling her scent. “Stay safe soldier.” She whispered her lips ghosting over Bernie’s ear, she felt her shudder. Smirking knowing for sure she wasn’t alone in how she felt. 

Had she been more awake, if either of them been more awake, it might have ended differently. Instead Serena forced herself back. Her hands trailed down the rough wool of the jacket, straightening a perfectly in line insignia before her fingers linked with Bernie’s giving her one last squeeze she stepped back and opened the back of the cab. Seeing her in the seat she shut the door, raising a hand in a wave as she watched the cab start off down the faintly lit street. She stood on the sidewalk her eyes lingering until she could no longer see the red tail lights.

Sighing she crossed to her own house, letting herself in and kicking off her shoes. She felt her eyes burn with tears as she pulled out a half empty bottle of Shiraz. Not even bothering with a glass she took a healthy sip straight from the neck before trudging upstairs to bed. “Stupid, stupid, stupid McKinnie. Why didn’t you get her number?” She peeled offer her blouse and jumper, kicking off trousers. “Ha! Get the number of a deployed trauma surgeon? How would you even build a relationship with a woman who is three thousand miles away?” She wiped at her tears as she flopped down into her bed. 

 

\--

 

There was a pounding in her head, Serena buried her face harder into her pillow. She hadn’t even drank anything last night, well not enough to count. Why was her head pounding? She squeezed her eyes shut against the sunlight streaming through her windows, she must have forgotten to shut the blinds last night. The pounding persisted. Groaning she cracked her eyes open and realized it wasn’t her head that was pounding, it was the door. Someone was pounding at her door, she squinted, at eleven thirty on a Tuesday morning. Sighing, she realized whoever it was didn’t sound like they were going to give it up anytime soon. “Coming!” She yelled grabbing a dressing gown and stumbling down the stairs. 

She spared a glance at the downstairs hall mirror and winched. Running a hand through her short hair to try to straighten it before she attempted to wipe her forgotten mascara off below her eyes. Realizing it was useless she flipped the lock on the door and pulled it open, staring wide eyed out into the sunny day. What she saw made her mouth go dry.   
Bernie Wolfe stood on her doorstep, decked out in fatigues, a camo duffle sat at her feet and in her arms were a dozen red and pink roses. They stood staring at each other, eyes wide as they took each other in. Serena in a burgundy satin dressing gown that barely fell mid-thigh, her feet bare, hair a mess. Bernie in her pressed khaki fatigues, hair pulled back, sunglasses pushed up on her head. They stood there in the early May sunlight staring at each other with matching grins. 

“I-I um…” Brown eyes tracked pale skin, “I didn’t mean to wake you but I have to be on base in twenty minutes… and um. Last night, I’m-“ She sighed breaking off. “I’m horrible with words but Serena last night. I um. I know I’m going back to Iraq for another three months but if-if you’d like um. In the card is my regiment’s address, if you wanted to write... or something…” She shifted, “I was wondering, maybe 18th August, I’m home for two weeks, it’s a Sunday, if you are free…. if you’d like to have dinner with me? Like a date.” The last words rushed out of her mouth. 

Serena squinted into the warm sunlight behind her, wondering if this was some kind of dream and she was still in bed making all of this up in her head. Bernie looked stunning all done up in military garb yet fumbling with words like a schoolgirl. She stepped a bit closer, around her duffel a finger gently touching the petals of a pink rose. “I’d love to have dinner with you.” She watched as the wrinkles around Bernie’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. Serena moved a bit closer, and leaned up on her tiptoes. Her arms slinging around Bernie’s neck as she pulled her down slightly so she could bring their lips together in a gentle kiss. “I’ll be counting the days.” 

 

\--

 

A few hours later, Serena sat at her kitchen table staring at the flowers in a vase in front of her. After a desperate snog in the porch of her house against the door Serena watched Bernie walk away with tears in her eyes. She fingered the white card from the flowers that lay in front of her with an Iraq army base address on it. She smoothed out her sheet of stationary, long forgotten in the back of her junk draw. She took a deep breath and smelled the fragrance of the roses as started her letter. 

My Dear Berenice, 

You’ve only just left my house, and are probably still in UK airspace but yet I can’t help but still feel you pressed against me…


End file.
